Wonder Woman and Superman in Like Bunnies
by NWHS
Summary: This is a short fluff piece about Diana and Clark's first week living together.
1. Chapter 1: Diana

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Like Bunnies**

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 **Author's Note:**

This story is full of sexy, fluffy goodness. It is an indulgent piece of writing so very stereotypical of fanfiction stories. Which I have absolutely no problem with, because all stories don't have to be deep and long. Now that's one hell of an unintended double entendre. Anyway, on with the fluff.

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 **Metropolis**

"Don't scream."

Diana was going to scream.

"No, no, no, don't scream."

Yes, she was definitely going to scream.

Clark's hand, which had been gripping her thigh as he obliterated one sense after another with his powerful and unrelenting thrusts, came up to cover Diana's parted lips.

He thrust into her again—hard and grinding with a swivel of his hips that punctuated the erotic maneuver with mind-numbing potency.

How could she not scream, if he kept doing things like that to her?

Diana opened her mouth and clamped down on Clark's hand, biting it instead of screaming her pleasure to the proverbial rafters. He could handle a love bite from Diana, even one delivered with sharp teeth and quivering tremors of ecstasy.

More hard, grinding, swivel thrusts came, and Diana tightened the legs Clark had so effortlessly swung over his shoulders ten minutes ago.

Had it only been ten minutes? And how in the world had Diana come to be on a kitchen countertop, knees to her chest, and a grunting Clark buried deliciously deep inside of her?

As Diana threw her head back, a strangled moan caught in her throat, Clark's right hand still over her mouth, Diana was hard pressed to recall how she'd ended up like this.

 **Thirteen Minutes Ago …**

Halfway to Themyscira, Diana cursed her forgetfulness. She contemplated continuing on to the island. Thinking better of it, she turned around and made her way back to Metropolis and Clark's apartment. At that, Diana smiled. _It's your apartment, too, Diana. How many times are you going to have to keep reminding yourself?_

Well yes, in a way Diana supposed Clark's apartment was now _their_ apartment. And it had been so for all of six days. A full week come tomorrow.

As she cut a path of red-and-blue through the warm May air, making short work of the hundreds of miles left to go, Diana's smile grew. About two weeks ago, Clark had asked Diana to move in with him. They'd just made love. Diana was hot and sweaty and still coming down from her orgasm high when Clark rolled off of her, gathered Diana in his strong, masculine arms, and whispered in her ear, "Don't go. Stay here with me."

Diana hadn't understood Clark's cryptic words. But full mental functioning after an intense lovemaking session with Clark was too much to expect of her. God of War or no, Diana was a woman who'd been thoroughly satisfied and needed more than a minute or two to gather what was left of her body and brain.

So she'd blinked confused eyes at Clark and willed her foggy brain to clear and her body to halt its pleased dance of female satiation.

"What?" Not articulate or insightful, but it was the best Diana could do at that moment. She tried again, knowing her brain would kick more fully in if Clark would cease running his hands up and down her back and bottom. His hands and hard body stoked a flame that still sizzled hot and eager inside Diana. Leaning her head back from his, seeking a modicum of distance and perspective, Diana tried again. "What are you talking about, Clark?"

That tiny bit of distance and hard fought clarity shattered when Clark moved his head closer and claimed Diana's mouth in a wet, sultry kiss. A kiss that had Diana moaning into his mouth, wrapping arms around mighty shoulders and pulling Clark back on top of her. A kiss that scorched and seared what was left of sanity and common sense. A kiss that set off the simmering flame within, igniting it into a raging firestorm of Amazon wantonness.

An hour later, they lay on the floor instead of Clark's comfortable but sweat-drenched bed. Diana had no idea when they'd tumbled to the floor, but that was where they'd ended up—naked, panting, and spent.

"Move in with me."

"What?"

Shifting onto his side, Clark leaned up on an elbow, reached over and pushed strands of sweaty hair off Diana's forehead. Then he grinned down at her—sexy, sweet, and with open affection and love. She saw nervousness mixed in as well, but also confidence and hope.

"You said that already, Di. And while we both speak many languages, I'm certain I spoke in English."

"You did. Of course, you did. But …" Diana's tongue suddenly felt too large for her mouth, and her brain too small for her head. "What?" she repeated stupidly, when nothing brilliant sprung to mind. Hell, forget brilliant, when nothing at all but that four-letter question seeped through to her barely conscious brain. Her synapses not firing at all the way they should. Diana mentally floundered for another minute but managed to eventually say, "I already have a home, Clark."

His grin didn't lessen at Diana's less than sensible response. "I know you do, but I was thinking that you could also call this place your home. You can stay here, whenever you like. Bring a bunch of your stuff, not just that cute Vera Bradley overnight bag you use when you visit and plan to stay the night."

That dreaded four-letter word had popped into Diana's head again, but she'd regained enough control of herself not to blurt it out for a fourth time. She grasped Clark's meaning, his question. How could she not when he'd put it in the most basic and direct way?

"Well, what do you say? Or do I need to expound on all the reasons why I think it's a good idea and why you should agree?"

Diana also turned onto her side and elbow, facing Clark with languid eyes and a strange sensation of post-sex humor. "Did you read somewhere that the best time to ask your girlfriend a relationship-changing question was right after mind-blowing sex?"

Clark reddened from Diana's playful question, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Clark, I was only teasing you. I can't believe someone actually wrote that or that you would read it and take it to heart."

"I didn't take it to heart. But now just seemed like the right time. You're happy and in a good mood." He shrugged a single shoulder. "It made sense at the time." Clark's beautiful blue eyes stared with earnestness at Diana. "So, what do you say? Are you willing to make this leap with me?"

By the time Diana entered Metropolis airspace, she'd finished reflecting on how she'd come to have Clark as a roommate. Using her key to enter their apartment, Diana walked in and spotted Clark in the kitchen. Bowl of cereal in one hand, spoon in the other, he looked unsurprised to see Diana. And utterly, painfully sexy, wearing virtually nothing, with bed-mussed hair and rippling muscles made for lifting, hugging, and holding onto during the most erotic of times.

She lifted her lips in a smile that was all for the man she'd made this leap of faith with. "I forgot my …"

Clark pointed to the countertop in front of him. "I know. Your lasso."

Yes, her lasso. She'd left her lasso. Diana never forgot the Lasso of Truth, no more than she did her twin bracers or tiara. Yet she had this morning. And she knew, as Diana made her way to the small kitchen area, the exact reason why she'd left it. Or rather, the person responsible for Diana's less than coherent thoughts before flying off to Themyscria.

Stepping in front of an immovable Clark, Diana snatched her lasso from the countertop. "Thank you for bringing it out here for me."

"You left it in the bed. I knew you would be back for it, once you realized."

Diana refused to blush at the mention of where she'd last been when she'd seen her lasso, especially with the way Clark's eyes kept dropping to her lips and then lower. Yes, well, he and his damn eyes, lips, and hands were the reason why her brother's magical rope wound up in their bed instead of the hook on Diana's hip where it belonged.

While Clark typed away on a story he'd been researching for a week, Diana had showered and dressed. She had a ten o'clock meeting with her council. Yet she hadn't made it more than five steps out of the bedroom before a Kryptonian blur flew at Diana, scooped her up, and deposited the stunned Amazon on the bed.

From there, well, clothes, boots, tiara, bracers, and lasso were stripped from her, replaced by Clark's hard, aroused form and hungry, supple lips. And Diana could do nothing but take another leap with Clark, her ardor a match for his own.

Two hundred plus pounds of Clark moved forward, the bowl and spoon no longer in his hands. He crowded Diana, moving in such a way as to press her against the countertop.

"It took you long enough to get back here."

A dark eyebrow arched at Clark. "I've been gone all of ten minutes."

"Which means you were taking a leisurely flight."

Yes, Diana had been. Even with their impromptu morning lovemaking, Diana had gotten up early enough to leave herself plenty of time to reach Paradise Island before the meeting. As queen, Diana had two action items on her agenda she wanted to accomplish before she met with her council. And while Clark's sexual attack had set Diana's schedule back by half an hour, that still left her with two hours. Which meant Diana didn't have to fly at maximum speed to reach the island. She could simply take a few extra minutes to revel in the glory of a new day and of being in love and living with Clark Kent.

From the predatory gleam in Clark's eyes, Diana knew Clark's intent. She was already shaking her head when he said, "It'll be quick. I promise. I just want a little taste." Pelvis pressed into her own, forcing Diana to acknowledge that Clark wore nothing but a pair of too-tight, too-sexy, and too-mouthwatering scrumptious pair of black spandex shorts. Leaving little to the imagination as to what he had going on inside of his shorts.

And she tried very, very hard not to moan at the blatant, sexual contact.

But failed, as well as Clark's enticing lower body had successfully aroused Diana to the point she barely noticed when Clark lifted her onto the countertop.

 **Now …**

Oh, but the man felt so good inside of her. They shouldn't be doing this, not here and not now. They both had work to do, schedules to keep, and sanity to maintain. There was a whole, wide world that existed outside of this kitchen, this apartment, and Clark's arms.

Diana bit down harder on Clark's hand. She wanted to scream, to loudly exhale all the pleasure he was giving her. But Diana couldn't because, yes, she would be too loud and his neighbors would hear them. Months ago, Clark had soundproofed his bedroom, which was where they always made love. But since she moved in, they hadn't kept their amorous activities relegated to the bedroom. Which had resulted in more than a few polite and not-so-polite bangs on their walls, ceiling, and floor from their next door, upstairs, and downstairs neighbors.

Soon, they would really have to soundproof the entire apartment. But, for right now, Diana would try her best to not fall apart completely. Which was so very difficult to do with Clark stroking in and out of her, hitting Diana's sweet spot he knew so well.

She moaned—loudly.

He groaned—even louder.

Diana reached up and slapped a hand over Clark's mouth. It didn't help. His thrusts were growing faster and harder. The fingers of his left hand dug into Diana's upper thigh, as he moved forward and back in an intense rhythm that had Diana wondering if the countertop would hold up.

And his grunts and groans were turning more into primal growls.

"The bedroom," she gasped out. "Mmm, Clark, we need to go to our bedroom." Because Diana hated for either of them to suppress the vibrant feelings they invoked in each other, to not give in completely to the unexplainable and unavoidable way their bodies and hearts reacted to each other.

"Yes, the bedroom," Clark agreed, eyes closed, face taut with pleasure, hips slamming into Diana with a force that cracked the countertop. But Clark didn't stop making love to Diana, didn't cease that wonderful in and out glide that had her on the knife edge of greedy release.

She let go of his hand, and it fell away from her mouth only to find her right hip. With both hands gripping her tightly, Clark's tempo increased that much more, as did his bestial growls.

They were breathing heavily, moaning shamelessly and loudly, and racing toward a glorious completion that was so delectable in its fierce, fast intensity.

When Diana leaned forward to accept Clark's kiss, the lasso, she hadn't realized she still held, fell from her hand. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered when they got like this, so deep into each other, so attuned to one another's body, so anxious to reach that pinnacle moment of gluttonous bliss.

And they did, Diana and Clark wrapped around each other, kissing and loving like two mad hatters who hadn't seen each other in months … years. But they'd just done this, less than thirty minutes ago in their bedroom, on their bed, and just as boisterously as they were now. They ripped their mouths from each other in deafening rapture, the neighbors and cracked countertop cast aside for more important matters of the body.

 _Yes, yes, yes_ , Diana's body shouted, shivering and quaking from one orgasm to the next. Clenching, contracting, shuddering and drawing Clark along the highway of sensual decadence with her.

He followed, as he always did—willing, eager and utterly demanding. Forcing Diana to accept more pleasure, to go beyond this realm of flesh and carnality and into the next. Soul-stirring, raucous, and raw.

For minutes, they stayed like that, basking in the silent afterglow of their heated lovemaking. Neither in a rush to disconnect and lose that feeling of oneness.

"Damn," Clark breathed against her mouth, "that was so good."

It had been. Without a doubt, it had been so very good. Better than good, actually.

Clark gave a pleased sigh that was all masculine pride. "Thirty."

"What?" Great, Diana was back to that stupid four-letter question. If Clark kept this up, Diana would have no brain cells left to run her small island nation or work with the League.

Clark helped Diana lower her legs from his shoulders. But he remained where he was, his glorious naked body between her now hanging legs. Diana just as unabashedly nude as her lover.

"Thirty what?"

"Thirty times making love since you moved in here."

No, no, that couldn't be right. Diana frowned, thinking Clark must be mistaken. She'd only been there five full days. Today was the sixth and it wasn't even eight thirty in the morning.

"I'm sure we haven't had sex that many times." No, Diana rejected that stat outright. No one, except sex addicts, had sex so often in such a short period of time. Not that she knew anything about sex addicts, but, according to Zola, sex addicts had an increased sex drive that included an obsession with sex, the actions that surrounded sex, and an intense desire to take part in such actions. That wasn't Diana or Clark.

But …

Clark ran the pad of his thumb over Diana's nipple, stroking it with deliberate slowness into a hard, needy peak.

She moaned.

Clark did it again and again, silently and surely making his point about the thirty times in barely six days.

Diana leaned her hot body into his purposeful touch, wanting Clark to do more than play with her nipple. And didn't that reaction from Diana explain those thirty times she didn't want to admit to. Not that that made them sex addicts, of course. No, never that.

But what did it make them? What did so much sex say about Clark and Diana and their relationship?

Clark's other hand rose to Diana's nape, pulling her forward until their mouths were nearly touching again. "It won't always be like this. We're just on a temporary high from moving in together and having so much access to each other. I'm sure, as time goes on, all this sex will even itself out and we won't be as ravenous for each other."

"Are you sure?" Diana didn't know why she sounded worried. Besides the fact that thirty times in less than six days was a hell of a lot of sex. Made worse by the fact that they'd just made love and Diana damn sure wanted to do it again. Dammit, what in the world was wrong with her?

Clark licked her lips, teasing them with sensual back and forth strokes that had Diana opening her mouth and drawing his tongue inside.

Yes, this was crazy. Her body tingled all over, aching to have Clark inside her again. This urge to repeatedly consummate the new stage of their relationship had to even itself out, as Clark said. For if it didn't, they would be of no good to the people who relied on them.

Of their own volition, Diana's legs wrapped around Clark's sturdy hips. Without breaking the kiss, Clark lifted her off the countertop and walked them from the kitchen and to the bedroom.

Clark closed the door behind them by pressing Diana's back against it. Breaking the kiss, Clark stared into Diana's eyes. "I know you have some place to be and I said I only wanted a little taste." He shifted his hips just an inch, but it was enough to bring Diana into luxuriant contact with his raging erection. "Someone like Hal would say we've been having sex like bunnies. Well, he wouldn't use the word sex. He would say we were fu … um, never mind that word. But you get my point."

Diana thought about it a minute, having never heard the saying before. But she knew rabbits reproduced at a more rapid rate than humans, and therefore they had lots of sex.

She nodded, the bunny analogy quite apt, especially since they were about to go from thirty to thirty-one times in six days.

Diana glanced over Clark's shoulder and to the red lights of the clock on the nightstand. Whether another quickie or an hour-long lovemaking session, Diana would still have time to make her ten o'clock meeting. But those other two tasks would probably have to be done after the meeting.

She looked back at a patient Clark, waiting for her decision.

Diana kissed him.

He kissed her back, and then with another shift, Clark was inside of her again. Making love to Diana for the thirty-first time since they became roommates.

Aphrodite help her. Yes, they were definitely having sex like bunnies.

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 **THE END**


	2. Chapter 2: Clark

**Chapter 2**

Clark marveled at the tall, lean goddess beside him. Body at rest, face set in peaceful slumber, naked and trusting with a hint of young woman innocence. His heightened senses took her all in.

The slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, her soft, sure breaths and barely-there but too-arousing shifts in the bed and against Clark's body. Clark leaned over, taking care not to interrupt Diana's sleep, and placed his face so close to her onyx hair the thick, glossy locks skimmed his nose and mouth.

With a deep breath that wasn't at all necessary, Clark inhaled. And there it was, yet another reason why Clark couldn't sleep, why he watched Diana with a lover's interest and slow-burning arousal.

Rich, tangy citrus fragrance with sweet fruit aromas. The soap, which Diana used to wash herself after they'd made love tonight, was actually called Paradise. A natural handmade soap rich in skin moisturizers, vitamin rich plant oils and butters. She'd claimed the natural and organic soaps in Man's World were not of the same high quality as those produced on Themyscira, once questioning if soap producers actually knew what the words _organic_ and _natural_ meant.

Sliding closer, Clark completely pressed his face into Diana's hair, enjoying the silky-smoothness and the nearly imperceptible way Diana's body moved toward his own the closer he got to her.

Clark smiled and breathed her in again. He'd purchased the Paradise soap for Diana, in addition to Bliss, Thai Lemongrass, La Femme, and Island Breeze, along with an assortment of whipped body butters, hair lotions, shampoos, bath salts, and lotions. The basket had been a housewarming gift for Diana when she moved into Clark's apartment.

The owner of Natural Beauty Hair and Skin Care in Sausalito had been more than happy to help Clark select the perfect items to include in Diana's gift basket. The middle-aged woman had beamed up at him, green eyes alight with approval each time she showed Clark a product and he knew, within a second of hearing its purpose, ingredients, and smelling its fragrance, whether Diana would like and actually use the item.

As polite as Diana was, she would never use something on her body she didn't care for just because it was gifted to her. Even if the gift–giver was the man she loved.

And while Clark didn't delude himself into thinking the soaps he'd purchased compared to Themysciran soaps, he did know the products from the little Sausalito shop were of top-grade quality and the owner sold items Diana liked but weren't available on her little island nation. The bonus, Clark soon discovered, was that his apartment constantly smelled of Diana, even when she wasn't at home.

The downside, if one could consider it a downside, was his utterly masculine reaction.

A hand settled on one curvy hip, above the sheet and not at all where Clark truly wanted his hand to be.

Not a downside, not really, Clark reflected, beginning a slow up-and-down glide on Diana's hip, his face still pressed into her sweet-smelling hair.

A month. She'd lived with him only a month, and Clark couldn't get the feel, taste, and scent of her out of his mind. Even Jimmy and Lois had commented on his "faraway looks" and long lunch breaks.

"Why in the hell do you smell of vanilla and sandalwood, Clark?" Lois had said to him about two weeks ago, after she'd cornered him in the elevator. She'd leaned in close to Clark, her pert nose in the air and sniffing like a Bassett Hound on the hunt. "You went out for lunch two hours ago and have come back with a cat-got-the-cream grin on your face and smelling of natural oils."

If Lois's olfactory senses had been as acute as her nose for sniffing out other people's secrets, she would've also detected the scent of patchouli. Instead, she glared up at Clark with a knowing arch to her brow, hands on slender hips and a bodacious, "You got lucky, Smallville. It's as obvious as the love bite on your neck." She punched him in the arm, and Clark feigned being hurt. "And your little afternoon hook-up had better been with Diana or I'm kicking your ass."

"Of course it was with Diana, what kind of—"

Lois had laughed. "Too easy, Clark, too easy." When the elevator stopped at their floor, Lois shot him a superior look over her shoulder before sauntering off the elevator. Clark watched the petite woman make her away around _Daily Planet_ employees and to her desk.

In too much of a good mood to allow Lois to ruin his day, Clark had smiled, puffed out his chest and spent the rest of his day thinking of all the romantic places he and Diana could have a "working lunch."

And all of those "working lunches" had really added up this month, as did snarky comments from Lois and thumbs-up from Jimmy. If Clark didn't stop his mid-day trysts with Diana, everyone at the Planet would be talking about his sex life. As it was, Clark had just gotten around to sound-proofing the entire apartment. Which meant, thank goodness, he and Diana could have sex anywhere in the apartment they liked, be as loud as they liked, and not disturb their neighbors. Who, unfortunately, knew far too much about what went on between Clark and his girlfriend, thanks to their loud and frequent love life.

After the third week of Diana living with him, Clark had stopped counting how many times they'd made love. Well, in truth, he knew the exact number, he'd just stopped telling Diana. She didn't seem to want to think too much on how often they made love.

During that first week, Clark had told Diana, with much confidence, that everything would even itself out. Well, three weeks later, nothing had changed. If anything, Clark found himself wanting Diana more, which was insane.

He sighed, wondering if this was a problem, a phase, or nothing for him to worry about. Who were they hurting? No one. Their sex life didn't interfere with their professional and personal duties, despite their penchant for afternoon sex.

Clark enjoyed the feel of Diana's thigh under his exploring hand, unconscious of the slow, rhythmic rocking of his hips into her tempting backside.

Rock.

Rock.

Rock.

She sighed, a sleepy moan that sent all kinds of carnal thoughts through Clark's mind.

Rock.

Rock.

Rock.

Suddenly annoyed with the barrier that was the cotton flat sheet, Clark slid his hand under the cover and onto Diana's bare, warm body. Yes, this was much better, what Clark needed, wanted.

An hour ago, he'd told himself he would only watch Diana sleep and be content with that. But it had been a lie, a self-delusion meant to cajole a restless, needy Kryptonian.

Rock.

Rock.

Rock.

The hand stroking Diana's soft, muscular thigh meandered its way up her side and over to a breast, a nipple.

He played, thumbing the nipple until it hardened, becoming sensitive under his deliberate, sensual fingering.

Rock.

Rock.

Rock.

A throaty moan and then more rocking.

Diana, not Clark.

Her bottom came into direct contact with him, a teasing swaying of hips that had Clark squeezing her nipple harder and searching for something to bite down on.

Finding her shoulder, Clark bit.

Not hard.

Not rough.

Just enough to set the mood for what was to come, an unquenchable carnal need that sometimes spiraled out of control.

Clark bit Diana again, just as she rubbed that sweet spot of his with that even sweeter spot of hers.

He moaned, closed his eyes and spoke against her hair. "I was trying to be very good tonight. I promised myself. I was supposed to let you sleep, let you make it through one night in this apartment without" —Clark rolled his hips, rocking into Diana the way his body invariably demanded when they were naked, in bed, and this close to each other— "being molested by your horny lover."

A low, feminine chuckle. Diana's hand rose, found the nape of Clark's neck and pulled him forward. Then she was kissing him, twisting her head and shoulders so their mouths touched, engaged, and tasted.

Mmmm, so damn good.

"Perhaps I've been the one doing the molesting, Clark. Or maybe I simply don't mind having a 'horny lover' wake me in the middle of the night."

Clark nipped Diana's bottom lip, certain she hadn't realized she'd spoken those words in her native tongue. Which, speaking of tongues, was now exploring the bulging vein in Clark's neck.

Yes, definitely good.

"You taste delicious, Clark. Have I ever told you that?"

Diana shifted once more, the back of her aligning with the front of him, a silent communication of how she wanted their late night loving to proceed.

Clark's hand went to her waist, her hip. "I believe you've told me that a time or two. Normally right after you've sent me to heaven with that amazing tongue and mouth of yours."

Sex talk was a new phase in their relationship. They were still trying it out, seeing how well it suited them. For Clark's part, he didn't know how far Diana's sensibilities went, what she would consider crass, offensive, or simply unbecoming of an Amazon. So they were taking it slow, learning their limits, as much as the limits of their partner.

Diana leaned her back against Clark's chest. "You make the most erotic sounds when I do, Clark-encouraging yet desperate. I find that I like that combination."

"What you like is hearing me beg you to finish what you started."

"True." Said with the laugh of a temptress. "But you've done no less to me. And you know how I detest delayed gratification."

Clark did, which was precisely why he tended to toy with Diana and why she had no compunction about paying him back.

But, at two in the morning, there would be no games of temptation and torture between them. Between the shared kisses, touches, and playful banter, they were past the point of teasing, of waiting, of begging.

Slipping his hand between Diana's thighs, Clark set about making Diana even wetter. Dipping in and out, he pleasured her with long, thick fingers, drawing her wetness onto her clit and circling until Diana was bucking into his hand.

With each desperate rotation of her hungry hips, luscious curves pressed and caressed his erection, sending jolts of heat and desire through Clark.

Diana was close, so close to orgasm Clark could feel it. Feel her whole body beginning to convulse, feel the budding earthquake within, the rapid pulse of her heart, and the matching pulse in his.

Reaching back, she found him—long and hard and ready. Knowing his body as well as her own, Diana joined them, taking a self-satisfied gasp when Clark penetrated her. His own pleased gasp following.

Then his hips and fingers went to work, making love to Diana. In no time at all, languid movements and slow loving turned hard and fast.

And the bed was no damn where in sight. But the spot between the ceiling and the wall was, their sweaty bodies wedged together and plastered against the wall.

Banging.

Banging.

Banging.

Damn but they were testing the strength of the reinforced wall and the sound-proofing system.

Banging.

Banging.

Banging.

Ceiling and wall gave way eventually to hardwood flooring, Diana astride Clark, nails digging into chest and eyes gone lightning-white.

Strong fingers found sturdy hips, hold bruising as Clark thrust upward, an eager, bestial response to the spirited Amazon riding the hell out of him.

She drove him crazy, invading his mind and heart while controlling his body with her sensually erotic murmurings. First in themysciran and then in kryptonian, which let Clark know Diana knew exactly what she was saying and what she was doing to him.

Because there was just something so damn suggestive about Diana telling Clark how good he made her feel while speaking kryptonian in that husky Themysciran-London accent of hers.

And Clark, well, every brain cell had taken up temporary residence below his waist. Allowing for nothing more than animalistic moans, grunts, and growls, as well as the occasional four-letter word that too-aptly expressed how Diana totally destroyed him.

Before he knew it, they were racing each other to the finish line.

Panting.

Heaving.

Thrusting.

Shuddering.

Breathing and moving with primal intensity and greedy anticipation, lust and love comingled and bursting forth on ragged shards of succulent release.

And release.

And release.

And release.

Boneless, Diana dropped onto Clark, dark hair spilling onto his chest, his shoulders.

For several minutes, they stayed like that, bodies cooling, heart rates slowing, breaths calming, and bodies still joined.

"How many?" A tickled question against the fine hairs on his chest.

"How many what?"

"Times we've made love since I moved in here? I know you know. Tell me."

Yeah, he knew, but Clark really didn't think Diana would like the answer. When he didn't respond right away, Diana lifted her head just enough to peer down at him.

"How many times, Clark?"

He paused for a second more before answering. "One hundred fifteen."

Diana closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. To his relief, she didn't seek to disengage from Clark. But what she said, did surprise him. "An average of 3.83 times over the last thirty days." Diana sat up, and then moved off Clark and to his side.

He remained where he was, mourning the loss of Diana's scrumptious body overtop of his.

"One hundred fifteen times in thirty days. I think that's excessive." Blue eyes sought his. "Do you think we're being excessive, Clark?"

"Honestly, Di, I have no idea. But maybe you're looking at it the wrong way." He joined Diana in a seated position, thinking they should probably have this conversation on the bed and under the covers instead of on the hard floor. "You once told me that we weren't like other people. Well, that's still true. What may be a so-called normal sex life for humans may not be for us—a Kryptonian with god-like powers and an actual Grecian god." Clark pressed a tender kiss to Diana's cheek. "I say this is probably normal for us, when we're lucky enough to see each other every day. We don't always get that. Hell, when we lived separately and our schedules got jam packed, we would go days, sometimes weeks, without seeing each, no less having time to make love four times a day."

"So, you're saying this is just us? Our normal, not to be confused with anyone else's normal?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying. Face it, Diana, we're the ultimate Power Couple."

"I can't believe you just said that."

A shrug. "Well, after Hessia leaked that picture of us kissing, that's what everyone dubbed us. We should just be happy our hands were above the waist in that picture."

A relieved sigh escaped the Amazon.

"What? Don't tell me."

Diana nodded. "Hessia told me it took her two weeks and over two dozen pictures before she caught us, dressed as Wonder Woman and Superman, doing something tame enough to be posted in reputable news outlets and that wouldn't shame me."

"Wait, you mean to tell me Hessia tracked us for two weeks and I didn't notice?"

Diana got to her feet and made her way to the bed.

Clark followed, settling under the covers and snuggling up behind Diana. This time, the spooning position was chaste.

Come morning, it wouldn't be.

"No, Hessia's not that good. But she is very smart and has full access to my London apartment."

"Oh, I get it. She set up a spy cam. Please tell me …"

"Not my bedroom, Clark, or any other part of the home. Only the balcony. My sister isn't Hal Jordan, Clark. She had no interest in catching us _in flagrante delicto_."

Right, right, of course not. Hessia was a good friend, not a pervert like Hal. Still, a part of Clark felt a bit exposed.

"So, umm, what did Hessia do with all of her pics?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask."

"Why didn't you ask?"

Diana turned in Clark's arms. "Because to ask would have been a sign of a lack of trust in my friend. I chose to trust she had done the right thing and destroyed them instead of insulting Hessia with such a question. Despite what she did, Clark, I trust Hessia with my life, as well as my honor."

Diana turned back around, finding the perfect spot between his arms once more.

"Amazon pride and trust are not taken lightly, Clark."

He kissed her bare shoulder, tasting sweat and her Paradise soap. "I know."

"I'm tired."

He knew that as well.

"We won't be able to be like this again for a week, maybe ten days."

And he knew that, too, dammit.

"They're my brothers, Clark," Diana reminded him, just when Clark was about to open his mouth about Diana spending seven or more days alone in the woods with two dozen men. "And I'm their queen and only female ally on an island full of unwelcoming women. I want to bring them into our family, but that requires work—on everyone's part."

Clark doubted there was much Diana could say or do to convince many of her sisters to think of, no less treat, the men as brothers, as family. But she was right. As queen, the responsibility of bridging the divide fell on her shoulders. Clark hoped, for Diana's sake, it would all work out.

Because if it didn't …

Clark wrapped an arm around Diana's waist, also feeling tired and in need of a few hours of rest. Yet the thought of sleeping in this big bed alone, for the next week or so, had Clark holding Diana even closer.

"Withdrawal," he muttered against her hair. "We're in for major withdrawal."

A slow nod of agreement. "I know, don't remind me."

"Where exactly on Themyscira will you be camping with your _brothers_?"

"The southern part of the island, and don't say brothers as if it's an accusation instead of a respected title."

Those men may view Diana as their queen, but he doubted if they thought of her as a sister and not simply as a beautiful woman. But Clark said nothing, unwilling to ruin what was left of this night with his irrational jealousy.

"Don't be surprised or upset if I find my way into the queen's tent or sleeping bag or whatever you use during your outings."

A soft laugh. "Amazons use nothing but bedrolls, Clark. So, unless you're into public sex, I suggest you wait until I return home."

"You really know how to suck the life out of a man's fantasy, Diana."

She laughed again.

Then, because his Diana was super-wonderful, she turned in his arms and claimed his mouth in a long, sensual kiss, full of promise and love.

"There's a secluded waterfall ten miles west of where my brothers and I will bed down for the night."

Oh, but Clark damn sure liked what Diana was suggesting.

"Is that an invitation to Themyscira, my sexy Amazon queen?"

Diana's reply was one-hundred percent naughty woman. "It's an invitation, my handsome Kryptonian, to _paradise_.

 **THE END**


	3. Chapter 3: Passion

**Chapter 3: Passion**

 **Author's Note:**

When I wrote the second chapter to what was, initially, supposed to be a one-shot, I considered the story finished. I'd written both points of view, which is always nice in a romance story. But Hellacre asked, in a review, if I would write what happens next on Paradise Island. Which, in all fairness, I did kind of leave myself open for such a request with the way I ended Clark's chapter. Anyway, Hellacre is a big supporter of SMWW fanfiction writers, myself included. So writing a third and final chapter, simply because she requested it of me, was a small gift I had no problem giving her. It's probably not the follow-up she envisioned, but I think it's a nice conclusion all the same. I hope you all enjoy this passionate piece of fanfiction.

 **Metropolis**

 **Monday …**

Diana luxuriated under the hot spray of water. Thick dark hair clung to wet back and shoulders. Pulsating jets rained down on the Amazon, freeing her body of clinging soap and the smell of male. Eyes shut, Diana lifted her head and took in a full blast of water to her face.

On and over her the waves of water went, pushing back already drenched hair and soaking her face in refreshing, mind-clearing beads of liquid rejuvenation. Turning her back to the spray, eyes still shut, Diana positioned her body so the last remnants of the Thai Lemongrass soap she'd used to cleanse her body was washed down the drain.

Diana took immense pleasure in the ritualistic nature of her morning ablutions. As a warrior, she appreciated the simplistic and straight-forward act of preparing the mind for the day by cleansing and readying the body. And this shower, these precious minutes of quiet and solitude, granted Diana time for reflection.

Surprisingly, her mind wandered to thoughts of Clark instead of the upcoming week she would spend with her brothers. She prayed, with effort and in time, she and her brothers could forge a loving and trusting relationship as strong as any weapon of war they'd helped Hephaestus create over the years. Yet, instead of thoughts of how she could move forward with the men, bringing them into the Amazon family, Diana couldn't help but replay Clark's words in her mind.

" _You once told me that we weren't like other people. Well, that's still true. What may be a so-called normal sex life for humans may not be for us—a Kryptonian with god-like powers and an actual Grecian god."_

Diana opened her eyes and reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste. Spreading the minty gel on her toothbrush, Diana turned back to the spray of water and began to brush, having already flossed the night before. Next came the mouthwash. By the time Diana finished, her mind was no less unsettled for how refreshed her body felt.

No, she still couldn't help but question Clark's explanation from the night before. In the clear light of day, Diana wasn't so sure she bought Clark's reasoning about their sex life. One hundred fifteen times in a month had to be excessive for any couple, even a couple with superhuman powers like theirs.

Diana shook her head, a visceral reaction to the staggering number of times they'd made love this past month. Sliding back the glass shower door, Diana climbed out of the shower, planting first one then two feet on the Medallion cotton tufted non-slip bath rug.

From the towel bar, she grabbed the beige-and-white body towel she'd placed there before getting into the shower. The warm, thick cotton towel glided over wet skin, absorbing all in its path until Diana was free of even a single droplet of water.

Ten minutes later, towel wrapped around Diana, she unplugged the hairdryer and placed it back into the wicker basket in the bathroom closet. Staring at herself in the mirror, Diana searched her face for signs of sex addiction. She knew it made no sense, but still she stared, wondering if a physical sign of the condition existed. And, if it did, whether she would recognize the sign if she saw it on her face, her body.

She considered getting the Lasso of Truth and wrapping it, like the towel, around her frame. Perhaps with Hephaestus' magical rope, she could divine the truth of what was going on with her body, inside her head. Because what did it say about Diana, an Amazon, warrior, goddess, and queen that she became mentally weak and sexually needy when in the presence of Clark, particularly when that presence was naked, aroused, and reaching for Diana with blue-red heat of primal, male lust?

Watching herself, Diana saw nothing out of the ordinary. She appeared as she did every morning. Black hair. Blue eyes. Sun-kissed skin.

And a stray love bite here and there that would be gone by the time she left the apartment.

Diana saw nothing unusual about the woman staring back at her. Certainly nothing to out her as a female who'd had sex 3.83 times a day for the past month. On a frustrated sigh, Diana wondered if she was making too much out of it or whether she should seek a friend's counsel.

Perhaps Hessia. The older woman had known the love and touch of a woman, as well as a man. More, as a fellow Amazon, she could understand Diana's conflicted feelings on the matter—feeling two-part wonderful and one-part controlled by her baser emotions and need for the unbridled passion of a male.

One male.

Clark Kent. Superman.

 _Knock. Knock._

"Diana? Are you all right in there?"

Lips lifted in a smile. The man, if so inclined, could see for himself if she were okay. But Clark Kent, bless his gentlemanly soul, respected Diana and the privacy a closed door would afford a woman who had any male other than Superman as her lover and roommate.

Diana opened the door, her smile growing when she took in the man before her.

Her heart raced and pulse quickened. Eyes lowered to the full lips speaking her name.

"Not that I'm worried about the water bill, Diana, but you've been in there a long time."

Actually, Diana had no idea how long she'd been in the bathroom. But she recalled dragging herself into the bathroom five minutes after Clark had bolted from their bed saying, "There's a five-alarm fire at the new senior center across town. I gotta go."

He'd gone, in a blur of red-and-blue.

Diana hadn't bothered to trudge after Clark. She knew the center, had seen it go from a vacant lot to a newly christened ten-story building a week ago. And while the brick building and surrounding vegetable and flower gardens were as lovely as the congregants from the next door church that funded its architecture, no one had yet moved into the facility. Which meant Clark and the firefighters could easily handle the blaze without the added stress of trying to save dozens of fire victims, and Diana could take a shower, for once, without Clark joining her.

Not that she hadn't thoroughly reveled in their lovemaking each and every time he did so. But today, this morning, Diana needed time alone to think, which she was having a hard time doing as she soaked in the smoky and spectacularly nude specimen of a male before her.

Diana's eyes slid past Clark and to the Superman uniform littering their bedroom floor, and then back to the man in front of her.

"How long have you been waiting for me to finish so you could shower?"

Two brawny shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug, encouraging Diana's eyes to fall from Clark's baby blue eyes and to mountainous shoulders she swung her legs over whenever Clark decided to pleasure Diana with his mouth and his out-of-this-world tongue.

Diana shuddered, feeling a throbbing of need in the pit of her stomach.

Eyes widened. Nose flared. And Diana knew, damn Clark's heightened senses, that he'd detected the subtle shift—from appreciation to interest to desire.

"Don't do that."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Yes you are." A step toward her. "I have to be at work in an hour."

Another step.

"I'm not stopping you, Clark. As you can see, I'm done in here. The shower and bathroom are all yours."

Perhaps if she pretended as if she had no idea what Clark was talking about they could make it out of the small bathroom before they went from one hundred fifteen to one hundred sixteen, blasting Diana's hard-fought control all to hell.

" _You once told me that we weren't like other people. Well, that's still true. What may be a so-called normal sex life for humans may not be for us—a Kryptonian with god-like powers and an actual Grecian god."_

Diana really hoped Clark was right, because the way his blue eyes glared at her towel with disdain and Diana's building arousal from Clark's nearness, she knew they shared the same thought, the same desire, the same need to slate an endless well of love and longing.

"I should shower first. I stink of smoke and you smell so damn good."

He said this, but Clark didn't move, just continued to stare at Diana's towel. This time, she knew he was using his X-ray vision, because when he lifted his eyes to hers, she saw only clear blue orbs of masculine appreciation and want.

"I don't care," she said, reaching for Clark and pulling him to her. Their lips met. And while he indeed smelled of smoke, Clark tasted like the finest of red wines.

Diana drank heavily from him, enjoying the rich, flavorful merlot that was Clark Kent.

Deeper and deeper into the kiss they sank, twining arms around each other, grinding hips, and pillaging the depths of each other's mouths.

"Damn, Diana." Moaned against her rapidly pulsing neck. "If I'm late again, Perry's gonna have my ass." Two large, possessive hands landed on her backside. "But I can't seem to keep my hands off yours." He stroked, squeezed, caressed. "I want to kiss you down there, sink my teeth into your sweet, plump ass."

A shiver ran through Diana. His words lit a path of female eroticism through her – one she barely kept leashed. They didn't have time for this. At least Clark didn't. Diana, on the other hand, had several hours before she was due on the island.

"We don't have to—"

Clark spun Diana around. Once again, she stared at herself in the mirror. This time, however, her handsome lover stood behind her, eyes drinking her in, hands under her towel and splayed on her bare bottom.

And it felt so very good, to have Clark touching her in this way, to see how much he desired her. His eyes and body begging her to want him as much as he wanted her.

She did.

Damn, but Diana did. No Amazon acted like this. At least not with a man, giving him power over her.

But gazing at Clark in the mirror, his need and hunger for Diana as obvious as the erection digging into her backside, the power he held over her was no less than the power she wielded over him.

In this, as in every other aspect of their relationship, they were equals.

Equals in love.

Equals in lust.

"Quickie," he whispered against her bare shoulder. A shoulder he kissed and licked before grazing with sharp teeth and wicked resolve.

Diana sucked in a breath when Clark did it again, moving with a lover's teasing touch from her shoulder and up to her sensitive neck.

Biting.

Laving.

Leaving marks of Superman possession in his wake.

Up went her towel to her waist.

"You're ready for me, aren't you, Diana." More kisses to her neck. "I can tell. It makes me feel so good to know you're already wet for me. That my kisses and touches excite you, as much as touching you like this excites me, make me want to bury myself so deep in you that I never want to come out."

Diana couldn't hold Clark's blazing gaze any longer, not with him speaking like that to her. So open and direct and without the slightest bit of self-consciousness and doubt. She wasn't yet as brave as Clark. Couldn't quite bring herself to express all she felt for him, wanted from him, and would gladly do to him if they had more time to indulge in their lovemaking.

There was still much growing to do in this relationship, so Diana didn't worry about her reaction when she dropped her eyes to the marble sink, hands going there as well when Clark pushed into her.

They moaned, long and with honeyed satisfaction at being joined once more.

Clark began to move inside of her, deep strokes that had him pulling all the way out before plunging back in, filling her in a way that only he could.

She pushed against him, meeting each passionate thrust with an enthusiastic response.

Hands on hips, fingers dug into Amazonian flesh, anchoring Clark as he drove into her. When his pace accelerated, Diana lifted her head and eyes.

She wanted to see him, needed to witness that glorious look that came over Clark's face when he immersed himself in their lovemaking. When that vein in the middle of his forehead rose and thrummed and pulsed with each ragged breath he took.

And Clark took many ragged breaths. Thrusts increased, mouth sucked, and eyes shone red with pending completion.

"That's it, Clark," she urged, watching him in the mirror. "We're almost there. Almost. _Yes. Yes. Almost_."

Hands balled where she had them on the sink, trying not to crack the marble and destroy the structure. Hard that when Clark was sending her to paradise, his rock hard body and unrelenting sex all that an Amazon warrior could ever ask of her male lover.

With one mighty hand, Clark ripped the towel off Diana, sending it floating to the floor in strips of ruined cotton and impatient male.

His thumb found her unhooded bud of pleasure.

And stroked.

Diana dropped her head and gasped out a moan. For all that was merciful, the combination of Clark's powerful thrusts and expert fingers would shatter what was left of Diana's self-control, especially if he …

The vibration began, slow and silky, like the hum of a butterfly's wings. Clark's thumb pulsed at an inhuman speed, the magnificent digit circling Diana's bud, ushering her rose into full, bountiful bloom.

She bit her lip, insane with bliss and want of him but unwilling to plummet, mindlessly, wantonly, into the chasm of hedonistic decadence.

"The next time we do this," Clark whispered, tongue peeking out and rimming the shell of her ear as he spoke, "I'm going to taste you. Take that delectable clit of yours into my mouth and suck until you come and come, screaming my name over and over and over."

If he didn't shut up, he would have his wish right now. No masterful tongue needed, just his amazing thumb which now oscillated with a force that had Diana's warrior knees buckling. But Clark caught her, held her around the waist with one hand while he deconstructed her womanly senses with the other, his hips never once wavering in their rhythmic, thrusting motions.

It didn't take long for Clark to obliterate Diana.

His pulsing, vibrating thumb.

His hard, relentless penetration.

His voice in her ear, words sexually explicit and not at all Clark Kent-like.

Combined, the triple assault had Diana throwing her head back onto Clark's shoulder and, _yes_ , screaming his name over and over and over.

Clark did the same, but with loud, brutal grunts that had his hips pushing at super speed as he surged his way to a cataclysmic completion.

Twenty minutes, a quickie by their standard. But it felt like so much more, a crossing of unspoken barriers, a questioning of cultural boundaries.

"If you fly, you should have no problem getting to work on time today."

From her place beside the bed, pulling off two sets of pillow cases and tossing them into the laundry basket, Diana heard Clark move around their bedroom as he dressed for his day of work. Nearly done stripping the bed, she glanced up to see a fully dressed Clark Kent—white collared shirt, black pants and black leather shoes. His Superman uniform peeked out from the top of the white shirt. The top button not yet done.

A gray, black, and white tie hung around Clark's neck. As she watched him, Clark buttoned the final button on his shirt and, with deft fingers, promptly tied his necktie.

And Diana tried very hard not to stare at the fingers that had sent her into sensual oblivion a mere ten minutes ago.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I was just thinking about the invitation I extended to you."

An unsure, questioning frown met her words. "Have you changed your mind about the invitation?"

"No. Well, not exactly."

The frown deepened, and Clark took two steps closer to Diana.

"What does that mean?"

"It simply means that I think we should take a little break before you visit with me on the island."

Clark glanced at the clock on the nightstand. He had to be to work in less than half an hour. When his eyes returned to Diana, the frown was gone, replaced with concern.

"You said something similar to that after the Zod, Faora, and nuclear explosion incident. I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now."

Diana was uncertain whether she liked the idea herself. But she needed time to think, to sort out her emotions and to prove to herself that her body did not control her mind.

"Was it the sex talk? Did I go overboard with it in the bathroom?" Clark ran a frustrated hand through his wild locks. "I can't believe I said some of that stuff. It's just, well, when we're like that, so close, so intimate, I can't help myself."

"You lose control?"

"Yeah, something like that."

The hand in his hair reached for Diana. Finding her shoulder, Clark squeezed. "Don't run away, Diana."

"I'm not running away from you. I just need some time, space."

The hand squeezed her shoulder again before falling away. "Not from me, Di, from yourself."

"What do you mean?"

Clark turned away, went to his dresser and picked up a comb and brush. After taking care of his hair, he put on his signature Clark Kent glasses.

"What I mean," he said, turning back to Diana, "is that you're disturbed, for whatever reason, by how many times we've made love since you moved in here. I think a small part of me gets it, but an even bigger part of me doesn't. I just don't see what the big deal is."

Diana plopped onto the foot of the bed, a red, silk robe covering her nude body. "One hundred sixteen times, Clark. I'm an Amazon. I can't allow myself to be controlled by my libido. By a …"

The way Clark stared at Diana told her he'd grasped what she'd left unsaid and wasn't at all pleased with her perspective.

Hell, neither was she. Sometimes, like now, Diana was reminded that, despite how unlike her mother and sisters she felt on most days, she was still a product of her island home, holding onto beliefs about men and women that should best be discarded. But she couldn't forget them, not all of them anyway. They were a part of her, even the hard-to-swallow and inconvenient ones that had to do with an Amazon's independence, identity, and self-control.

They stared at each other, an ocean of cultural differences between them.

"It's not you." Diana stood and faced the man she loved. "It's not you, Clark. You've done nothing wrong. Although I had no idea you could be so inventive with the sex talk. I guess it's the writer in you."

Clark smiled sadly and shook his head. "No. I only said what I felt. Why is it so difficult for you to do the same? To not question your own desires and needs? To trust yourself and believe in me more?"

Diana didn't know what to say to that, except, "I do trust you, Clark."

He nodded, and Diana didn't know whether it was a nod of agreement or a nod to end a disagreement that could easily turn into an argument if Clark didn't have to go to work.

Clark pressed a kiss to Diana's forehead. "So, I guess I'll see you when you get back. Have fun with your brothers, Diana."

A knife to the heart would've been less brutal than Clark's sweet acquiescence.

"I gotta go. Have a safe trip home."

Mutely, Diana waved as Clark flew away. She was such a fool. She'd hurt Clark, when all Diana wanted was a few days to work things out in her mind. That was her right, but she could've handled the situation differently, better.

She would make it up to him. Once Diana dealt with her inner demons, she would return to Clark and make it up to him.

 **Friday …**

"A penny for your thoughts, Smallville."

Clark glanced up from his blank computer screen to see Lois Lane frowning down at him. He'd heard her approach, of course, but she'd still taken him by surprise. As perceptive as ever, he'd caught her staring at him all today and yesterday.

Pulling up a chair beside his desk, she sat, crossing slender legs. "So, you want to talk about what's got you so quiet and distracted this week?"

There were many subjects Clark could and had talked to Lois about. They were best friends, after all. But there were some topics he simply couldn't share with Lois. Partly because they often involved him being Superman and not the normal human everyone in this office thought him. And while they'd spoken of his relationship with Diana on more than a few occasions, Clark's sex life with his girlfriend wasn't a subject he wanted to talk about with anyone other than Diana. Besides, Clark couldn't exactly discuss what was truly bothering Diana without divulging her Wonder Woman identity to the inquisitive reporter.

"I'm fine. Thanks, Lois."

She began to swing her crossed leg, deliberately kicking Clark each time she did so.

"You're such a poor liar, Clark. I can read you like a high school text book." Kicking him two more times, Lois touched a finger to the center of her chin, affecting a thinking pose. "Let me guess. You and Diana either had a fight or she's out of town. From the look of you and the fact that you've brought your lunch every day this week instead of darting off for a nooner, I'd say it's probably both."

A keen mind and acute observation skills were what made Lois Lane a top-notch reporter. But when she used those same skills on her friends, it was a real pain in the ass.

Clark moved his leg out of the way just in time to save his knee from Lois' blue pump. A cute shoe, as long as it wasn't coming into contact with a part of his body essential for walking.

"We didn't have an argument." Not exactly, anyway. Diana only needed a little space. It wasn't as if she'd left him and moved out. "She went home for a few days."

"And you're sulking."

"I'm not sulking."

Okay, he had been sulking. The apartment, which he'd lived in just fine a month ago, now felt too big and too quiet without Diana there to share it with him. Thanks to him and his heightened sense of smell, her fragrance was everywhere, including the Thai Lemongrass natural soap she'd used the morning they'd had their not quite argument. And he didn't even want to think about their bed sheets, which Diana changed after he'd left for work Monday morning. But the fresh linen, like every other sheet and bed comforter in the apartment, smelled of the natural oils Diana used in her hair and on her body.

So while Diana may have escaped Clark, Clark couldn't escape Diana. Not that he sought a true escape, he just felt lonely and needy in a way he hadn't since Ma and Pa had passed on. And he hadn't figured out how that made him feel, wanting and thinking about Diana to the point of distraction. To the point that Lois now sat before him, looking at Clark with a mix of sympathy and humor.

"You really have it bad, Clark. If you didn't look so adorably pathetic, I could take so much more pleasure in this. But god, poking fun at you would be like eating a Big Mac in front of a homeless guy—cruel and insensitive."

Clark could only glare at the woman he considered his friend. Even after knowing Lois for years, she could still shock him with the things that came out of her mouth.

"It's kind of cute, actually. Does Diana have any idea how whipped she's got you? Don't narrow your eyes at me, Clark. You are. I'm only stating the obvious. If Jimmy were here, you could ask him, if you don't believe me."

Clark had no intention of soliciting Jimmy's or anyone else's opinion. Diana may own a lasso, but Clark Kent, Superman, was not whipped. He was just about to tell Lois precisely that when he heard something that had him bolting to his feet.

"What in the world is wrong with you, Clark? Why did you jump up like that?"

How to explain? Hell, there was no way to explain without telling Lois the truth. So he let the question hang between them, ignoring the way Lois gawked at him, as if she didn't know whether to run away from the crazy man or drive him to the nearest insane asylum.

What Lois thought of Clark, at this moment, didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the sound he'd detected was slowly, too slowly, getting closer.

Lois stood. "The next time I see that girlfriend of yours, I'm going to have to have a nice little chat with her."

That pulled Clark's attention from the elevator on the other side of the newsroom and down to Lois, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What does that mean?"

"It means she can't leave on a trip and take your brain with her. Without it, well, you're just a walking penis who hasn't gotten laid."

"Who are you?" Clark gritted out. "Is this what you call not poking fun at me?"

An unrepentant shrug. "Golden opportunities like this don't come along every day. And once Diana returns and sexes you up, you'll be strutting around this place like a prized cock." Another shrug. "But really, Clark. When Diana gets back, we should all have dinner. She's the only one of my female friends who doesn't mind Jon's war correspondent stories."

Of course Diana didn't mind. It would take way more than a few bloody stories from Jonathan Carroll to unsettle an Amazon and god of war.

The door to the elevator dinged.

Clark smiled. And began shutting down his computer.

"What are you doing? Don't you have a racketeering story to write?"

Grabbing his backpack, Clark began shoveling documents and folders inside. "It's not due until Tuesday. I'll finish it over the weekend."

"The weekend?" Lois checked the time on her wristwatch. "It's only one, Clark. Where in the hell are you going hours before quitting time?"

"With me."

Clark's smile grew, and his heart suddenly felt whole again. If this was what it meant to be "whipped," then Diana could pull out her lasso right here and now.

Shocked, Lois spun.

"Hello, Lois. It's nice to see you again." In a sisterly display that had surprised Clark the first time he'd seen it, but no longer did, Diana leaned down and drew Lois into a warm embrace.

Lois, well, she still didn't know how to take Diana's physical display of affection and friendship. So her arms lay limp at her side, body stiff and eyes wide.

One of these days, Lois would appreciate what it meant to be befriended by someone like Diana, by Wonder Woman.

While she hugged Lois, Diana's gorgeous blue eyes were on him. As Clark's were on her.

Yanking his backpack onto his shoulder, Clark patted Lois on the back. "See you Monday."

"Wait. What? Were you expecting her?"

Before he could answer, Diana reached around Lois and grasped his hand. "No, I wanted to surprise Clark."

She had surprised him. They hadn't spoken in days. Not that Clark expected to hear from Diana while she was on Themyscira. But it was only five days into what was supposed to be at least a seven day bonding outing with her brothers. Clark wondered why Diana cut her trip short, or whether she was only in Metropolis for a few hours and would return home this evening.

Whatever the reason for her surprise visit to his place of work, Clark couldn't have been happier.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." Clark scanned the room. Nosy and interested eyes were on them, particularly Diana. Yes, his girlfriend was goddess beautiful. Fit and sexy in her all-white, spaghetti strap summer dress, high-heeled sandals, dark hair flowing in elegant waves down her back, Diana turned far too many heads for Clark's liking.

And while he should be used to the way men and women seemed drawn to Diana, it still, at times, annoyed him. Of course, having enhanced hearing didn't help. Because no man wanted to hear the lusty murmurings about the woman he loved, especially from people with whom he worked.

"So you're just going to drag Clark out of here in the middle of the day?" Lois sounded both annoyed and amused, as if Diana had no clue how things worked around there.

For the first time, Diana seemed to realize all eyes were on them, on her. And that the newsroom had gone deathly silent. Even Perry White stood at the threshold of his office, hands shoved into his pocket and watching the three of them.

With the hand not holding Clark's, Diana lifted her left hand and waved at his boss.

To Clark, Lois, and everyone's surprise, Perry smiled, waved back at Diana and said, "Have a nice weekend, Kent. See you on Monday. And you better have your racketeering story on my desk first thing Tuesday morning." Then he disappeared into his office, closing the door behind him.

"What in the hell just happened?"

Yeah, Clark wanted to know that as well, but Lois had asked the question on everyone's mind.

"Are you ready to go?" Diana asked again, with a girlfriend's impatience and a regal bearing that came with being Wonder Woman and Queen of Themyscira. Diana slid closer to Clark, her mouth going to his ear and whispering. "I just spent five days in the wilderness, my love. Hunting and fishing and listening to bawdy jokes with brothers who've spent too much time with the god of the forge. So, fair warning, I'm feeling more Amazon than is good for your colleagues' delicate sensibilities."

Clark had no idea what that even meant. But he had a vision of Wonder Woman tossing him over her shoulder and strolling from the news room, stunning blue eyes daring anyone, including Lois, to stop her.

In that moment, as their eyes met, Clark had no idea how Lois and the others couldn't see that Wonder Woman stood among them. Hell, unlike Clark, Diana wasn't even wearing her Diana Prince glasses. In truth, she rarely did when she went out. But there was something cavewoman-like about Diana right now.

Possessive.

Forceful.

Sexy.

Lois began pushing them both away from Clark's desk and toward the elevator. "Go. Go. If you two stare at each other like that any longer, you'll go up in flames or have sex on Clark's desk. Either way, I'm not in the mood to take a fire extinguisher to the two of you. So go and have copious amounts of sex. And, for the love of Dorothy, please give the Scarecrow back his brain."

"'Scarecrow back his brain'?" Diana asked, totally missing the _Wizard of Oz_ joke Lois was going for. "Never mind. I'm sure Clark will explain it to me later." She winked at Lois and got onto the elevator. "That is, after we've had copious amounts of sex, of course."

Lois laughed.

The elevator door closed.

And Clark and Diana were finally, _finally_ alone.

He took a step toward her, intending to pull Diana into a wet, sloppy "Welcome home" kiss. But she placed two hands on his chest and stopped him.

"Don't."

He frowned, confused. "Why not?" Had that come out as a whine? It had. Dammit.

Diana pushed the button for the lobby then leaned against the wall behind her. "Because, Clark, if I allow you to kiss me I won't want to stop at just one. And I don't think the owner of this building would appreciate Superman and Wonder Woman breaking this little metal box."

Clark grinned. He couldn't help it. While she hadn't whined as Clark had done, his lovely Amazon warrior had sounded adorably frustrated.

"So, back to our apartment? Once we're away from the building, we can take to the skies and be at home in under a minute."

When the elevator stopped at a floor and people got on, she pushed from the wall and stood beside Clark.

Close but not touching.

They didn't speak again until they and five other people shuffled off the elevator at the lobby level.

When they were a block from the building, they found an empty alley, changed, and were airborne within seconds.

Flying, Clark noticed, away from Metropolis.

"Where are we going?"

"My London apartment. It's closer to Themyscira than our home. And we'll have absolute privacy there."

Clark had no problem with that, especially since Diana owned the whole damn building, no sound-proofing necessary.

They flew at a Mach speed usually reserved for emergencies, like rescue missions. In a way, this was a mission of utmost importance.

In no time at all, Clark and Diana were on Diana's balcony.

Five seconds after that, she was in his arms.

Mouth open.

Lips supple and wet.

Tongue dueling for dominance, for control.

"Did Hessia remove her spy cameras?"

"Of course. Why?"

In a whiz of speed, Clark had them naked and on the balcony floor, his cape underneath of Diana.

"Have I answered your question?"

"Yes." She stared down her body at him. Clark poised between her bent knees. "I've decided," Diana began, licking kissable lips, "that, as a god and queen, it's my prerogative to have sex as often as I please with the man of my heart."

He touched her sex, gliding a finger over lips he would soon devour.

She shivered.

He did it again.

"Is that so, Diana?"

A jerky nod when Clark dipped an exploring finger inside and stroked.

"I-I've also decided enjoying my time with you, making love with you, makes me no less of an Amazon than if I'd taken an Amazon as a lover and we had sex 3.83 times a day."

Two fingers.

Diana closed her eyes, lifted her hips and rocked into his hand.

"That's a lot of thinking for five days, Diana. But do me a favor, don't talk about lovers you could take if you weren't with me."

"I'm not attracted to women, Clark. If I were— _ohhhh_ , that feels good."

Clark knew, despite being raised among females, Diana wasn't sexually attracted to them. Although, many were to her, including an Amazon named Aleka who'd died during the battle with the First Born. Diana had told Clark about the woman, their childhood friendship, and the bullying Aleka had subjected Diana to when it became obvious Diana did not return her affections.

"I'm a man of my word, Diana."

She opened lust-rimmed eyes. "What do you mean?"

He didn't respond, but let his actions speak for him. The other day, he hadn't just been spouting off about what he wanted to do to her the next time they were together. It had been a promise—to them both.

Clark didn't waste any more time with foreplay. The way he looked at it, five days without Diana was wait-time enough.

They were together. Alone. And, miracle of all miracles, she'd talked Perry into letting Clark take a half day without the normal mumbling and complaining he gave Clark and the others when he thought they were slacking on the job.

Clark replaced his fingers with his mouth, his tongue.

Diana keened, opened wider and let Clark feast upon her.

True to his word, he teased her little clit until it bloomed for him. Then he took it into his mouth and sucked-gently, reverently, insistently.

And through it all, Diana's hands stayed in his hair, fingering the locks with a roughness Clark found utterly arousing.

" _Clark. Clark_."

Yeah, he found that arousing as well. The way Diana all but purred his name while making love to his mouth with her sex. Thank god she'd come to terms with this side of herself, succumbing, not to him, but to the incomparably independent woman inside the Amazon.

Clark knew this wasn't the first, nor would it be the last time their differences in upbringing and culture would challenge them. But Clark believed, as long as they loved each other, were patient and honest with themselves and each other, they could weather any relationship storm.

When Clark lifted his head, it was to see Diana staring down the long length of her body at him. "You do that exceedingly well. I think I'm addicted to your mouth alone, Clark. In fact, I'm sure I've dreamed of that wily tongue of yours for two straight nights."

"That's good, because I've done nothing while you were away but think about you with two dozen men in loincloths you affectionately call _brothers_."

Diana's come-hither look had Clark climbing up her body and settling between her enticing thighs.

"They are my brothers, and you'll meet each of them once I've had my fill of you."

Clark raised up on an elbow. "What do you mean? I thought … Well, I thought you said something about a secluded waterfall."

Diana's eyebrows furrowed. "I did. But I invited you to Themyscira to meet my brothers."

Clark inwardly shook his head. What in the world had he been thinking. Diana of Themyscira wouldn't sneak Clark onto her island home just to have sex with him and then send him back to Metropolis with a smile and a "Thank you, Superman."

She stroked his face, a gesture full of love and warmth. "I missed you." Leaning up, she kissed his lips, tasting herself on him the way she always did when Clark pleasured her this way and she thanked him with sweet, appreciative kisses. "If you're free, I would like for you to join me this weekend."

"I would love to, especially since you got me out of work early and away from a prying Lois." He began nuzzling her neck, done with using his mouth for anything other than pleasing his Wonder Woman.

She wanted him to meet her brothers, which was a pleasant surprise. He'd already met enough of her godly relatives to last him a lifetime, he didn't need to meet more. But this was the first time Diana had invited him to Themyscira. Beginning with her brothers was both smart and a kindness to them both. Because Clark wasn't quite sure when he would be ready to meet the brood of women Diana called _sisters_. And he had no interest in Diana putting herself in a position where she felt the need to defend her relationship with a man, with Superman.

Clark began to kiss his way back down Diana's body, but she stopped him with a strong hand to his shoulder.

"If you'll recall, I have a very nice king-size bed in my bedroom."

Clark smiled. Hell yes, he remembered the insanely sturdy bed of Diana's. They'd made love for the first time in her bed. And Clark was fairly certain Diana commissioned its construction from Hephaestus once they began dating and it became clear they would become lovers.

"I'd much rather have you in my bed than out here for anyone with a high-powered telescope to see."

Well, that unwanted visual set a fire under the Man of Steel.

Off they flew, nearly crashing into the sliding glass door in their haste to get to Diana's bed.

But once they reached it, royal blue silk sheets and a blue-and-white bamboo flowers duvet were slung aside. Their overheated bodies shifting feverishly until nothing remained on the large bed except two bodies entwined in carnal delight.

Their passion.

Their addiction.

Their love

And if Clark wasn't so preoccupied with the woman of his heart and dreams, he would've heard Jimmy ask Lois, "Ah, where's Clark? I go on assignment for a couple of hours and he disappears on me."

And if Clark wasn't so intent on upping their average from 3.83 to 5.0 times a day, he would've heard Lois chuckle and say, "About now, I'm sure Clark and Diana are having sex like bunnies."

 **THE END**


End file.
